To Be A Dancer
by Kemara
Summary: The angels help a disabled girl reach for her dreams.


To Be A Dancer  
_A Touched by an Angel story  
By Kim Sisk ([Kemara@aol.com][1]) _   


* * *

DISCLAIMER: For the purpose of this story, I have taken liberties with some aspects of Irish step dance. I have been dancing for three years, but I am not an expert yet! :) Any blatant inaccuracies are my own fault. Thanks to Meg and Kolya for their editing and suggestions. All disclaimers apply.  


* * *

The lilting notes of an Irish jig floated out into the parking lot. Monica,  
Tess and Andrew listened as they stood outside the dance studio. A banner  
over the door read, "O'Connor School of Irish Dance".  
  
"It's such a cheerful sound," Monica commented, tapping her foot to the  
rhythm.  
  
Andrew nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it makes you want to jump up and dance!"  
he grinned, doing a few shuffling steps. Monica laughed, shoving him  
playfully.  
  
"Will you two angel babies ever grow up?" Tess wondered aloud to no one in  
particular, shaking her head.  
  
"I doubt it," Andrew replied, putting an arm around Tess, "but you still love  
us, right?"  
  
"Of course I do." Tess returned the hug, drawing in Monica too. "And speaking  
of growing up, our next assignment is a little girl who's had to grow up very  
quickly. But she still has the faith of a child. And that faith is about to  
be shattered unless we  
help her."  
  
Monica gestured to the studio. "So she's a dancer, then?"  
  
"She is, but she's a very unusual one. You'll see what I mean when you meet  
her," Tess replied. "Now, lets get inside. It's too hot out here for me."  
  
One Child's Dream  
The three angels walked through the lobby and paused in the doorway to watch  
for a moment. Girls and boys filled the large mirrored room. Some stretched  
on the floor, while others laced up black leather shoes or practiced high  
kicks at the ballet barre  
along the wall. In the center of the studio, five teenage girls danced in  
unison, their fiberglass-tipped shoes clacking in perfect time with the  
music. They finished in a flurry of clicking heels and bowed to a smattering  
of applause from their fellow dancers.  
  
"Hello. I'm Deirdre O'Connor." A young woman wearing black leggings and an  
O'Connor school t-shirt approached them.  
  
"Hello, I'm Monica. We spoke on the phone earlier about a teaching position."  
Monica liked Deirdre immediately. The petite brunette radiated energy and  
enthusiasm.  
  
"Oh, yes!" Deirdre shook hands. "I'm so glad you're here. I can really use  
the help."  
  
Monica introduced Tess, and explained Andrew was a physical therapist.  
  
"If you're a physical therapist, I'll have to introduce you to Sara." The  
teacher nodded over to the barre, where a girl of about 14 practiced the same  
steps over and over, ignoring everything else around her. The angels noticed  
that her feet turned in and her balance wobbled occasionally.  
  
"Is she new?" Monica asked sympathetically.  
  
"No," Deirdre replied. "Sara has been taking lessons for three years. She has  
cerebral palsy in her legs, but she loves to dance. I think she has more  
heart than all of my other students put together." She gave the teenager a  
motherly smile.  
  
Deirdre led the visitors to some folding chairs where they could sit down.  
"Actually, she hasn't done too badly. She's placed in three competitions. We  
never dreamed she could get this far, but she's really worked hard."  
  
"Now Monica, let me see you dance," Deirdre's voice was suddenly  
businesslike, "I'll be doing most of the teaching, but I'd like you to be  
able to work one-on-one with the students who are having trouble. And if you  
could lead them in the warm-ups before class, that would be a great help."  
  
She rummaged through a duffel bag and took out two pairs of shoes. "These  
should fit if you didn't bring your own."  
  
Monica smiled. "Actually, I did." She took a pair slippers from a green bag  
on the chair next to her. Only Tess and Andrew noticed that the bag had not  
been there a minute before.  
  
"I'll get the music ready for you then." Deirdre walked over to the stereo  
and began looking through CDs.  
  
Monica laced the gillies, sending up a prayer of thanks for the tights and  
knee-length black skirt she wore. Otherwise this could be very embarrassing,  
she thought.  
  
"Uh, Monica?" Andrew looked wary, "are you sure you can do this? I mean, you  
have trouble singing....and dancing involves music......" He trailed off as  
Monica glared at him.  
  
"I guess we'll just have to find out." She stood and joined Deirdre at the  
stereo.  
  
"Oh, Lord," Tess moaned, resisting the urge to cover her eyes.  
  
Andrew could only nod, and pray Monica wouldn't do too badly.  
  
After a quick consultation with Deirdre, Monica walked to the center of the  
floor. She stood straight with her arms down by her sides, her feet turned  
out. The dancers settled down cross-legged against the wall to watch.  
  
A quick reel played on an accordion filled the studio and Monica began to  
dance. On her toes she turned and leaped effortlessly, her upper body held  
still while only her feet moved.  
  
"Don't they call Irish dancing 'the ice of the body and the fire of the  
feet'?" Andrew whispered to Tess.  
  
Tess nodded silently, her expression amazed.  
  
After doing two steps of the reel Monica pointed her toe and bowed to  
Deirdre. The children clapped and whistled in amazement.  
  
"Very nice, Monica", Deirdre said approvingly. "Let me see you do a treble  
jig, if you would, please."  
  
Monica came back over to Andrew and Tess to change into hard shoes with  
fiberglass heels and toe tips.  
  
"You did good, Angel Girl," Tess complimented.  
  
Monica tossed her long red hair out of her face. "It's fun," she grinned. She  
finished buckling the shoes and went back out on the floor.  
  
Her treble jig was just as good as her reel. Now, she pounded out the beat as  
tap dancers do, adding toe stands and heel clicks for emphasis. As before,  
she finished with a bow after doing two steps.  
  
Deirdre joined in the applause. "Wonderful, Monica. Children, this in Monica,  
and she's going to be working as my assistant. Everyone gather around, now. I  
want to talk to you for a minute about the Oireachtas. That's the regional  
competition," Deirdre explained for Tess and Andrew as the youngsters sat  
down again noisily.  
  
"The Regionals are at the end of November," Deirdre continued. "For those of  
you who are new, let me explain how they work. Its a two-day competition  
where the best dancers compete. You dance one hard shoe and one soft shoe. If  
you get recalled, you'll dance your nontraditional set piece that's  
choreographed just for you. Those who place will go on to Ireland for the  
World Championships in April." She paused to allow the chatter to die down.  
"I suppose you'd like to know who's going?" she teased.  
  
"Tell us!" Kathleen, one of the older girls, was practically shaking with  
excitement.  
  
Deirdre took out a sheet of paper from her folder. "Those of you in six and  
eight hand figure teams will being going, as well as the 13 and under girls  
ceili. We have four solo dancers this year: Jennifer McKay, Sara Porter,  
Kathleen Shannon, and Megan Johnson."  
  
"Why is she going?" one girl asked, glaring at Sara, "she's just in Novice."  
  
Deirdre sighed. "Because she works hard and she deserves this chance. You  
know Novice dancers compete all the time. I believe you were in Novice at  
your first Regionals. Right?"  
  
"Yeah. I didn't place either," the girl muttered sullenly.  
  
"I might not place, but I want to try," Sara said, forcing a smile.  
  
"And that's all anyone can ask, Sara, that you do your best. That goes for  
all of you. Do you best and have fun." Deirdre grinned. "we're all winners  
here!"  
  
The dancers cheered and began gathering up their things.  
  
Sara unbuckled her shoes, her face downcast.  
  
"Hey, cheer up, Thumper! We'll sweep the medals at Regionals. I'll call you  
tonight." Jennifer, Sara's best friend, picked up her purple shoe bag and  
hurried out the door.  
  
"Bye, Jennifer!" Sara waved, but as soon as the other girl left, her smile  
faded.  
  
Monica walked over to her. "They call you Thumper?"  
  
"Yeah, because my feet spasm sometimes. Jennifer says it reminds her of that  
rabbit, Thumper, from Bambi, pounding his foot on the ground to warn his  
friends of danger." Sara sighed. "usually I don't mind when they call me  
that."  
  
"Why do you love dancing so much?" Monica asked gently, joining her on the  
floor. "It must be very hard sometimes."  
  
Sara glanced at Monica. "I'll tell you, if you promise not to laugh." When  
Monica nodded, she went on. "Well, the first time I went to a competition I  
did two dances. In the first one I almost fell right there on stage. It was  
so embarrassing!" Her cheeks flushed and it was a moment before she  
continued. "But when I started my jig, everything changed. It felt like  
someone held me up. I had no control over my body. I remember watching myself  
dance and thinking, 'is this me?'. I placed third, and I've never danced so  
well since. I think my guardian angel helped me. So, after that I decided to  
dance just for God, to thank Him for all He's done for me." Sara laughed  
shakily. "I know you think I'm crazy, but that's how I feel."  
  
Monica's eyes filled with tears. "No Sara, I think it's a beautiful gift, and  
so does God."  
  
The girl smiled. "I hope so. If I place high in the Regionals, I can dance at  
the World Championships in Ireland. That's my dream. That's what I pray for  
every night."  
  
"We'll do everything we can to help you get there." Even as she spoke, Monica  
prayed silently: "Father, show us how!"  
  
Monica beckoned to Tess and Andrew. "Sara, these are my friends, Andrew and  
Tess."  
  
"Will you let me look at your legs?" Andrew asked Sara, "I'm a physical  
therapist."  
  
"I haven't been to PT since I was six," Sara replied, taking off her socks.  
"The doctors said I could have an operation to make my legs the same length,  
but I don't have time to do that right now."  
  
"Well, I can think of a few things that might help you." Andrew manipulated  
her foot carefully, flexing it up and down. "Have you ever heard of a drug  
called Botox?"  
  
"No, what does it do?"  
  
"It's an injection that relaxes the muscles," he replied. "each injection  
lasts for about three weeks. During that time you go to therapy to stretch  
the muscles and tendons while they're loose. When the injections are stopped,  
the affected muscles aren't so tight."  
  
"Can I try it?" Sara asked hopefully.  
  
"I'll talk to your doctor and your parents. Maybe we can work something out."  
  
Hard Work  
Over the next few months Sara began a regimen of Botox injections and  
physical therapy with Andrew. The stretching sessions were torture.  
  
"I can't do it, Andrew! It hurts too much!" Sara wiped away tears.  
  
"I know it hurts, honey, but you have to keep trying. We don't have much  
time." Andrew was patient and gentle, pushing her a little further each day.  
  
As her legs improved, Sara learned she could go far beyond the limits she had  
placed for herself and her confidence soared. With Deirdre and Monica's help,  
she began working on her dances for the Regional competition and together  
they created a hornpipe set dance for her. The set, performed to a specific,  
or set tune, showcased a dancer's individual strengths and talents.  
  
"I don't think we'll worry about putting in frills like toe stands and  
clicks," Deirdre mused one Saturday in September. "You'll do better with  
something simple and elegant."  
  
Monica stood. "How about this?" She performed a series of steps, adding  
double shuffles and sideways jumps which Sara did particularly well.  
  
"I can do that!" Sara copied her excitedly.  
  
"Good!" Deirdre exclaimed. "Let's see what else we can come up with....."  
  
The Dress  
As September faded into October, practice for the Oireachtas increased.  
Besides preparing new dances, the competitors bought new costumes as well.  
Solo dresses costing hundreds of dollars arrived from Ireland, and the girls  
modeled them excitedly. Because Sara was only in Novice, she had no solo  
dress, and her parents could not afford one.  
  
"I don't mind," the girl told Monica one day as they watched Jennifer  
practice in her new red and navy costume. "My parents have been so wonderful  
about paying for my lessons and shoes, not to mention the medicine. My school  
dress will be fine."  
  
Though she spoke bravely, the angels could tell Sara badly wanted a special  
dress of her own. They began to pray. Two weeks later they gathered around  
Sara after a lesson.  
  
"Sweetie, you've worked so hard, we decided you needed a reward." Tess winked  
as Monica came in carrying a blue dress bag.  
  
Sara looked at it, puzzled. "Is that for me?"  
  
Monica unzipped the bag and held up a dress for Sara to see. It was dark  
purple velvet with Celtic knotwork embroidered in blue, white and sliver.  
White satin lined the skirt and sleeves. On the front panel, a dove shone in  
white thread, wings outstretched. The sliver trimmed cape showed a Celtic  
cross sewn in blue.  
  
"It's beautiful!" Sara gasped. She took the dress from Monica and ran a  
shaking hand over the soft fabric. "Where did you get it? It must've cost a  
fortune."  
  
Andrew smiled. "It's from a friend of ours. He knows all about you and how  
hard you've worked. He wanted you to have it as a present."  
  
Sara began to cry, laughing through her tears. "Will you tell him I said  
thank you?"  
  
Tess pulled her into a hug. "He already knows, Baby. He already knows." 

At the Regionals  
During Thanksgiving weekend, the group from the O'Connor school arrived at  
the Crowne Plaza where the Regionals would be held over two days. Monica and  
Sara shared a room, as Sara's parents had been unable to afford the trip.  
  
After they unpacked, Sara hurried down the hall to Deirdre's room which was  
crowded with dancers. Jennifer immediately set about rolling Sara's long hair  
on bright foam curlers.  
  
"I look like a porcupine!" Sara laughed looking in the mirror.  
  
"We all do!" Jennifer replied, admiring the neon green spikes on her own  
head.  
  
Monica showed up with Sara's shoe bag just as Jennifer secured the last  
curler.  
"OK! You go on down and practice. I'll be there in a little while."  
  
Deirdre called out over the chaos. "Practice downstairs in the "A" ballroom  
in an hour! Anyone who is late will not dance tomorrow. We'll go over figures  
and a few solos if we have time."  
  
Andrew met Monica and Sara in the hall and the three went downstairs  
together. The huge ballroom had been set up with a with a wooden floor  
surrounded by chairs for tomorrow's competition. A few other dancers milled  
around, getting used to the stage.  
  
Sara changed into her gillies and Andrew helped her go through some simple  
exercises to warm up her muscles.  
  
"Nothing strenuous," he warned her. "I don't want you going all out and  
hurting yourself."  
  
Sara took a few hopping steps around the floor. "I hope they put on rosin  
tomorrow. It's slippery already."  
  
"Let's just try a beginner reel and see how you do," Monica suggested,  
joining her. They held hands and danced the simple piece through a few times  
until Sara was panting.  
  
"That's enough," she made her way to a chair. "Let me sit down a minute."  
  
Andrew handed her a bottle of water. "Here, drink this. You're nervous and  
that makes it harder." He massaged her calves. "It's a good thing we could  
practice tonight. You'll be more relaxed in the morning."  
  
"Yeah, right," Sara muttered crossly.  
  
Andrew pretended to pout. "Hey, would I lie to you? You'll be fine."  
  
"Look at them." Sara gestured to two dancers from the Sullivan school who  
were practicing a complicated treble jig. "My stuff looks like baby dances  
next to theirs."  
  
Monica sat down beside her. "Sara, you know that Deirdre decided it would be  
better if you did simple dances very well than to try something too  
difficult."  
  
"I know, but I wish I could do all that fancy stuff. I can't even click my  
heels," Sara remarked gloomily as one girl performed triple clicks to finish  
her routine.  
  
"Focus on what you can do, not what you can't," Monica instructed her.  
"What you can do, you do nicely. Now, let's see your hornpipe."  
  
Even Sara admitted that her set dance was good. The tune was "King of the  
Fairies", a haunting, slow piece that called for good rhythm and perfect  
timing. Sometimes Sara liked to pretend she was Bernadette Flynn dancing to  
this same song in Feet of Flames. Tonight though, the excitement of actually  
being at the Regionals left her no need to pretend.  
  
Tess sang the tune for her, and expected Sara to be able to do the same. "It  
will help you concentrate your timing," she said.  
  
As Sara finished up, the O'Connor group came in with Deirdre who was carrying  
a stereo. As Deirdre and the Sullivan school teacher conferred about music,  
their students changed into soft shoes.  
  
"OK," Mary Sullivan clapped her hands. "We'll start with a reel and go from  
there." She put in a CD.  
  
The song began and dancers filled the large stage, leaping, turning and  
kicking in every direction. Sara looked a little frightened of the tumult.  
  
"Sara, let's go!" Deirdre called, walking over.  
  
Sara hesitantly stepped into the crowd of dancers and waited for her cue,  
trying not to get hit.  
  
"Will she be alright?" Monica asked as Sara narrowly avoided being kicked  
and run into.  
  
"Oh, this is easy compared to tomorrow," Deirdre assured her. "She'll only  
have one other person onstage with her then, but she won't be able to hide  
any mistakes. This teaches the kids to keep their eyes open, and gets them  
using the stage. Judges like to see that."   
  
A graceful slip jig followed the reel and Sara took advantage of the lull to  
change into her hard shoes.  
  
"That was crazy!" she exclaimed, wrapping loops of elastic around her feet  
to keep the shoes tight. "I thought I was going to get brained, or stepped  
on."  
  
"You'll just have to live up to your nickname and bounce out of the way like  
a rabbit," Jennifer laughed.  
  
Practice for the treble jig and hornpipe was done with three dancers at a  
time because the risk of injury was greater if someone happened to get kicked  
by mistake.  
  
When all the solos had danced, Deirdre dismissed them so the teams could have  
the stage.  
  
"I want every one of you in bed by 10:00. Tomorrow's a busy day. Meet me in  
the lobby at 8:00 to sign in and pick up your numbers. And girls, when you're  
not dancing, make sure you wear a smock over your costume. Those dresses cost  
alot of money, but one hot dog can ruin them."  
  
The group laughed at this, and headed back to their rooms.   
  
"Think we'll sleep at all?" Sara asked as Jennifer opened her door.  
  
Jennifer gave a huge yawn. "I know I will. I'm beat. See you in the morning."  
  
Morning came soon enough.  
  
Monica helped Sara with her dress, pinning the cape at the left shoulder and  
right hip with sterling silver Tara brooches. Together they stood in front of  
the mirror and admired the effect. Rhinestones on the skirt and sleeves  
glittered. The purple velvet set off Sara's light skin. Monica carefully  
applied heavy makeup to the girl's face so her complexion would not wash out  
under the bright lights.  
  
Sara gathered up her bag and they hurried down to the lobby.  
  
"There. You look lovely." Monica pinned a matching velvet headband to Sara's  
light brown hair. Long spiral curls flowed down her back, held with a white  
satin scrunchie behind the purple crown.  
  
Sara grimaced. "I don't feel lovely. I feel terrified."  
  
"You'll do great," Andrew assured her. He tweaked her nose playfully and she  
managed a tiny smile.  
  
Tess hurried up. "Now, let's hear you sing your set dance one more time,  
just to make sure you haven't forgotten it."  
  
"I could do it in my sleep," Sara complained. "Sing it, I mean, not dance  
it."  
  
"Now you stop talking like that! I know you can sing and dance it too. So  
let's hear it." Tess raised an eyebrow.  
  
With an exasperated sigh Sara launched into "King of the Fairies", her hands  
moving as she danced the hornpipe in her mind.   
  
"Very nice," Tess told her when she finished. "Why don't we go find a  
seat?"  
  
The competitions were being held in two ballrooms on the main floor of the  
hotel. The "A" ballroom, where they had practiced the previous night was  
crowded with spectators and dancers in brightly colored costumes.  
  
Joining Deirdre, the angels and Sara watched the O'Connor Under 13 ceili team  
compete "The Three Tunes". The girls, all 11 years old, took third place.  
Considering they had never competed at such a high level before, it was quite  
an achievement.  
  
"You see what hard work can do?" Andrew whispered to Sara as the team  
accepted their trophy amid loud cheers.  
  
'Yes," Sara replied, her cheeks flushed with excitement.  
  
"You're up next, honey," Deirdre pointed to the board which showed the next  
competitions.  
  
Sara took a deep breath to control her nerves, and stood up. "Well, this is  
it."  
With hugs of support, Monica, Tess and Andrew watched her go with Jennifer to  
sign in.  
  
"They place three dancers and one alternate," Deirdre told them. "If one  
girl can't compete, then the alternate gets to go. Sara's competition has  
five dancers. Someone won't place at all." She didn't have to say what they  
were all thinking. Sara was that someone.  
  
"Does she have any chance?" Monica watched Sara stretching at the side of  
the stage.  
  
"It'll take a miracle for that child to win," Tess replied. She raised her  
eyes to Heaven, "Father, we sure could use one."  
  
"Amen," Andrew said softly. His heart ached for all the pain Sara had  
endured just for this moment, and it wouldn't be enough.  
  
"Competition 7, girls 14 and under, to the stage please," the announcer  
called out.  
  
"They'll do a reel and a treble jig. Those who are recalled will dance a  
hornpipe for their set," Deirdre murmured as the five girls lined up across  
the back of the wooden floor  
  
The dancers performed two at a time. The odd number meant that the last girl  
would dance alone, a stressful position. Deirdre nodded when she saw Sara in  
the second pair. "God please be with her," she whispered.  
  
Sara danced very well. Her steps were elementary compared to those of the  
other girls, but her precise technique, sense of timing and bright smile set  
her apart. When she bowed, the O'Connor group let out a huge cheer and  
clapped till their hands hurt.  
  
  
The fifth girl was Sara's best friend, Jennifer. She was confident, knowing  
she had the adjudicators' undivided attention.  
  
She danced brilliantly, feet flying, legs very straight. She leaped high in  
the air, seeming to hover like a bird for a split second. As she landed, her  
foot slipped. The audience heard the sickening crack even above the music, as  
her ankle snapped.  
  
Jennifer screamed in pain and fell to the floor, clutching her foot. Deirdre  
rushed to her side. With the help of two fathers they carried Jennifer out of  
the room. When she passed them, Monica placed a gentle hand on her shoulder  
and the child's sobs quieted as her pain eased.  
  
For a few minutes the spectators milled about uncertainly, talking about the  
accident. Then an official came forward. "The adjudicators are asked to score  
competition 7 with four competitors. We will continue with competition 13,  
boys 9 and under." An assistant sprinkled rosin on the floor so no one else  
would slip.  
  
Sara came over to the three angels, her face white. "Will Jennifer be OK?"  
she asked, holding back tears.  
  
"She'll be fine." Deirdre answered, making her way back through the crowd.  
"But that ankle's definitely broken. She won't be able to dance on it any  
time soon. They've taken her to the hospital to set it and for x-rays."  
  
She hugged Sara. "You did a fantastic job! I'm so proud of you. If you do  
that well for your jig, you'll be on your way to Ireland."  
  
"What happens now that Jennifer is out of the competition?" Monica wanted to  
know as Sara hurried off to change out of her gillies.  
  
Deirdre sighed. "Well, now there are four dancers instead of five which gives  
Sara the alternate spot at the moment. They may decide to place all four. It  
just depends."  
  
"So she is going to the Worlds, then?" Andrew asked.  
  
"Yes," Deirdre replied. "Unless she gets hurt she's going."  
  
Tess looked puzzled. "You don't sound too happy about it."  
  
"I'm just worried about what will happen when Sara gets to Dublin and  
discovers the competition is way over her head. I'd hate to see it destroy  
her self-esteem after she's gotten this far."  
  
"We'll worry about that when the time comes," Tess told her. "All we can do  
now is pray."  
  
Deirdre smiled, "You're right, Tess. Thank you." 

Sara ate lunch with the three angels in the hotel restaurant, while they  
waited for the first round of competition to finish. To distract the  
teenager, Andrew told silly jokes that kept them all laughing.  
  
After eating, they browsed the vendors set up in the lobby. Monica insisted  
on buying Sara a pair of silver buckles for her hard shoes. "They match your  
dress," she remarked.  
  
Back in the ballroom, Deirdre helped Sara place duct tape on the bottoms of  
her hard shoes.  
  
"Now, that should give you better traction," she tore off one last piece.  
"Remember to hop straight back behind so you don't loose your balance. I  
don't want you falling too."  
  
"I won't; I promise." Sara grinned, feeling no hint of nervousness.  
  
'Good girl," Deirdre hugged her. "I see Kathleen over there. Why don't you  
go warm up with her?"  
  
"Thanks, Miss O'Connor". Sara ran off in a clatter of noise.  
  
Deirdre shook her head. "I feel a headache coming on already." The three  
angels laughed and Andrew handed her a couple of Advil.  
  
Sara did not fall, although her treble jig gave her some problems. Once her  
foot skidded, but she recovered to finish strong. For a girl with a limp and  
turned in feet, it was a triumph.  
  
"Yes!" Deirdre leaped to her feet along with the rest of the audience.  
Sara's disability had become well known over the weekend, gaining her many  
admirers.  
  
Sara hurried over, her face glowing. "I thought I was done for when I  
slipped," she gasped.  
  
"You kept your composure very well," Monica complimented, as they made room  
for the teenager to sit down.  
  
"Look! They're going to tell who got recalled," Sara whispered eagerly  
  
A woman with a clip board came out in the middle of the dance floor and  
motioned for quiet.  
  
"We have the results for the first two rounds of Competition 7, girls 14 and  
Under. The following dancers will be recalled tomorrow afternoon for the  
final round: Sharon Massey, Katie Donealy, Theresa Bell, and Sara Porter."  
  
Sara flung her arms around Deirdre. "We all got recalled!"  
  
"I knew you could do it!" Deirdre's bright smile showed no hint of worry.  
'Why don't you get changed, and rest for a while before dinner? I know  
you're tired."  
  
Sara nodded. "Now that you mention it, I am kind of beat."  
  
Monica helped her gather up her things and they walked back to their room  
together. While Sara changed, Monica tidied up the room which looked like a  
tornado had been through it.  
  
"I want to go see Jennifer," Sara said coming out of the bathroom. She had  
changed into jeans and an O'Connor school sweatshirt, but her hair was still  
curled. Monica could see dark circles under her eyes, even with the heavy  
makeup.  
  
"You need to lie down," Monica told her. "Otherwise you'll be too tired to  
dance your set for the recall tomorrow."  
  
"I will later, but I need to talk to her. Please, Monica," Sara pleaded.  
  
Monica understood. "I'll take you."  
  
At the hospital they learned Jennifer was being held overnight for x-rays and  
observation. Her mother told them that although the break was serious,  
doctors had decided against operating.  
  
While Monica waited in the hallway, Sara went quietly into Jennifer's private  
room. Her friend was awake and watching TV.  
  
"Hi! Congratulations!" Jennifer hugged her carefully, and Sara pulled up a  
chair.  
  
For a moment they said nothing, each lost in her own thoughts.  
  
"You should've won," Sara told her finally, "not me."  
  
"No, I deserved to fall." Jennifer hesitated. "About a week ago I decided to  
try loosing a few pounds before the Regionals. I skipped a few meals and  
practiced instead." She looked sheepish. "Stupid, I know, but I didn't think  
it would matter. When I go  
up this morning I felt lightheaded but I figured it was just nerves. I  
should've realized I was too weak to dance."  
  
"I'm sorry, Jen." Sara leaned over and took her hand.  
  
"So, I'm glad you've got a chance," Jennifer continued, smiling. "I hope  
you go to Ireland and kick butt!"  
  
The two girls laughed, but Sara quickly sobered. "I'm just the alternate,  
right now. I still have to dance my set tomorrow."  
  
"You'll get the alternate automatically, don't worry. Go to Dublin and have  
a good time...check out all those guys in kilts!"  
  
That sent them off in another giggling fit, until the nurse looked in.  
  
"Sorry to interrupt your fun, but Jennifer needs to go down for a few more  
x-rays."  
  
Sara stood. "I'll let you know how it goes," she told her friend.  
  
"I want pictures!" Jennifer said as the nurse wheeled her out of the room.  
  
Sara joined Monica in the hallway. "Thanks for bringing me, Monica. Let's go  
before I fall asleep standing up."  
  
The Finals  
Sara slept uneasily despite being so tired. She woke in the middle of the  
night unable to get back to sleep no matter how much she tossed and turned.  
  
"Sara?"  
  
"Oh, Monica. I'm sorry I woke you up."  
  
Monica got up and sat on the edge of Sara's bed. "That's alright. Is  
something bothering you?"  
  
Sara almost said no, but suddenly she found herself telling Monica  
everything. "I didn't want it to be this way! I wanted to go to Ireland  
because I was good, not because someone else got hurt. I wanted to earn it!"  
Angry tears started down her face.  
  
Monica brushed them away and put a comforting arm around her. "Sara, you have  
worked so hard for this. If anyone deserves to win, you do. You haven't let  
your disability stop you, and that's really something to be proud of no  
matter how you place in Ireland. In God's eyes you have earned it. Remember  
that."   
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes," Monica assured her. "Now, you get some rest. Morning will be here  
before you know it." She tucked Sara in and kissed her forehead lightly.  
"Sleep well."  
  
The next morning found Sara in the ballroom at 8:00. She had come down right  
after breakfast to watch the younger girls dance their final round. Her own  
competition would not come until late that afternoon.  
  
As she watched, she thought about the changes of the past few months. The  
arrival of Monica, Tess and Andrew had been a turning point in her life. Her  
dancing had improved tremendously, and her confidence soared. "Thank you,  
Father, for giving me so many gifts", she prayed.  
  
Behind her, unseen, Monica, Tess and Andrew shared a smile.  
  
Sara's competition was next to last. For the set, each dancer was alone  
onstage and could use the entire floor. One by one the other girls danced.  
Sara was last. As she walked out, the announcer called out the title of her  
set along with the metronome speed.  
  
"King of the Fairies at 114."  
  
Because she knew the music by heart, Sara could concentrate more on her style  
and technique. She focused on pointing her toes, and getting out strong, loud  
trebles. She would have to impress the judges with clean, simple dancing,  
instead of difficult steps.  
  
She surrendered to the music and let herself go. She forgot about the judges,  
and just danced for the sheer joy of it. Sara finished with a stamp, and  
bowed to the musicians. To her surprise, the audience leaped to their feet in  
a standing ovation.  
  
Sara made her way back over to her friends and sat down weakly. "I think I'm  
going to faint." She felt Andrew put a supporting arm around her, and someone  
handed her a water bottle.  
  
"Sara? Are you OK?" Deirdre and Monica looked worried.  
  
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just give me a minute," Sara tried to get her breath  
back.  
  
Kathleen hurried up to them. "Sara, I have never seen you dance like that!  
You were fantastic!" Other spectators murmured in agreement.  
  
"I did pretty good, didn't I?" Sara asked wonderingly.  
  
"Yes, you did, baby." Tess answered proudly.  
  
The final competition was the treble reel. All the competitors stood in a  
line and danced one step in turn. In honor of the holiday season, the  
musicians played Jingle Bells and everyone clapped to the beat.  
  
The awards ceremony was the highlight of the weekend. The winners received a  
sash, trophy, and for some competitions, Irish crystal. For Sara's  
competition the dancers were awards starting with the lowest place and ending  
with first.  
  
Sara sat clutching Deirdre's hand, waiting for the results.  
  
"Fourth place goes to....."  
  
Sara began to stand up, but the next words froze her in the chair.  
  
".....Katie Donealy."  
  
Sara heard a roaring in her ears, then she realized it was the sound of  
applause.  
  
"Third place......Sara Porter."  
  
Sara was crying so hard they had to help her onto the podium. Through her  
tears she could see Deirdre, Tess, Monica and Andrew beaming. Someone put a  
blue sash over her head and handed her a trophy. It all had the quality of a  
dream even as flashbulbs popped.  
  
After the awards had been given out all the winners were called back up for  
the Parade of Champions. The dancers took turns doing one step of a reel,  
then all joined hands to dance together.  
  
Through it all, one phrase echoed in Sara's mind: Thank you God. 

To Ireland  
Sara's excitement after the Oireachtas knew no bounds. When she wasn't  
practicing, she watched the 1994 video of the World Championships over and  
over. She was surprised to find that she could do many of the same steps as  
the winners. Deirdre did not tell her that Irish dancing had become more  
complicated, and steps that were once Championship level could now be done by  
those in Novice.  
  
"I don't want to discourage her," Deirdre told Monica and Tess as they  
waited for Sara to finish physical therapy with Andrew.  
  
"Yeah, she's really thrilled," Tess grinned at Sara's determination.  
  
"You are coming with us, right?" Deirdre asked anxiously. "I don't know  
what Sara would do without you three."  
  
Monica and Tess traded meaningful glances  
  
"Yes," Monica replied. "We wouldn't miss it."  
  
In April a huge group from the O'Connor school saw them off at the airport  
with banners and balloons. Someone brought a penny whistle and the ceili team  
danced a quick jig while everyone clapped.  
  
"Come on, Sara! Get out there!" Jessica called from where she watched in her  
wheelchair.  
  
Sara blushed but she quickly gave in to the excitement, showing off part of  
her treble jig, and even improvising on it.  
  
The overnight flight to Dublin on Aer Lingus took 7 hours, and Sara surprised  
herself by dropping right off to sleep after dinner. The next morning as they  
flew low over Ireland, she looked down at the green hills and cried with  
happiness.  
  
"I never thought I'd see it," she sobbed to Monica. Jessica also had tears  
in her eyes.  
  
"It is beautiful, isn't it?" Monica agreed, admiring the stone walls below.  
  
"You're Irish, aren't you?" Jessica asked her  
  
Monica hesitated. "Well, not exactly....."  
  
Jessica turned back to the window. "I guess everyone is, a little bit."  
  
Smiling to herself, Monica did not reply.  
  
Sara had never seen anything like the Burlington Hotel in Dublin. It was the  
largest hotel in Ireland with 500 rooms, lavishly decorated. A huge banner  
proclaimed that this was the site for the "Oireachtas Rince Na Cruinne", the  
World Championships. Dancers from the British Isles, North America, and  
Australia had all gathered for two weeks of competition over Easter.  
  
Although Sara's competition wasn't for a week, the Under 13 ceili team would  
dance for the first time on Wednesday. Deirdre and Monica spent most of their  
waking hours rehearsing them, leaving Sara to spend time with Andrew and  
Tess.   
  
They had fun shopping on Grafton Street, and Sara danced in a pub one night  
to the accompaniment of a traditional band. The local people were impressed  
with her courage and promised to come to the Burlington the following Monday  
to watch her compete.  
  
Wednesday, the little girls' ceili team placed fourth out of seven schools.  
They laughed and vowed to come back next year to do even better. Sara admired  
their pluck. "I wonder if I could say the same", she thought.  
  
This time Sara had 11 dancers in her competition, instead of three as at the  
Regionals. She watched the other girls practice with a sinking feeling in her  
stomach.  
  
"They're all in Open Championships," she whispered to Monica Sunday  
afternoon. "That's the highest level in Irish dancing. I'm dead meat."  
  
Monica smiled at her dramatics. "Don't say that. All you can do is your  
best. We think you're a winner."  
  
"Yeah, you and who else?" Sara muttered darkly, but she did stop  
complaining.  
  
"How's she doing?" Andrew watched as Sara did a few leaps across the  
ballroom set aside for a practice space.  
  
"She's worried," Monica replied. "She can't help seeing that the other  
girls are much better dancers than she is. It's a shame, Andrew, after she's  
worked so hard." Monica held back tears.  
  
Andrew patted her hand. "Yeah, I know.....I know."  
  
Monday morning Sara found the angels and Deirdre in the hotel restaurant at  
breakfast.  
  
"Look at my shoes," she told them, holding the pair soles up. The fiberglass  
tip on the right shoe was very thin from use. By contrast, the left one  
looked brand new. "I can't dance in these. No wonder my balance is so bad."  
  
"I see what you mean," Deirdre commented, checking the shoes over. "But  
Sara, it takes a long time to break in new shoes, and with your  
problems....." She trailed off.  
  
Sara refused to be swayed. "I didn't have any trouble breaking in this pair."  
  
Deirdre sighed. "Andrew, Monica? What do you think?"  
  
"Well, Sara does have a point about them affecting her balance. We don't  
have time to have this pair retipped before this afternoon." Andrew tried to  
be diplomatic. "At the same time, I think new shoes could cause a problem,  
but it's up to Sara ."  
  
Monica nodded in agreement.  
  
"Sara, I really think you should wait until after your competition, but it's  
your decision." Deirdre sighed. "You know how you feel, so I won't  
interfere."  
  
Sara began having second thoughts, but she didn't want to admit it. "Can we  
go find some new ones?"  
  
The adults stood up. "Yeah," Andrew said. "Let's go."  
  
At the Rutherford booth Sara tried on several pairs of hard shoes. They  
finally settled on a pair with back straps for added support. Sara  
particularly liked how the new shoe design made it easier for her to click  
her heels. She wanted to practice in them, but Deirdre hurried her into  
gillies.  
  
"Your reel is in an hour," the teacher cautioned. "Practice makes perfect,  
you know."  
  
While she wasn't perfect, Sara held her own against stiff competition and  
older dancers in the girls' reel. She admitted to being disoriented by the  
high stage. "One misstep and you're in the audience!" she laughed  
afterwards.  
  
"I like these new hard shoes," she continued, strapping them on. "They feel  
comfortable. I'm gonna go practice my jig." She picked up her bag and  
hurried out of the ballroom.  
  
"Andrew, does it look like Sara's limp has gotten worse?" Deirdre asked  
when the teen was out of earshot.  
  
Andrew shook his head. "Yeah, but I don't think it has to do with her CP."  
  
"You think...." Monica didn't finish, almost afraid that voicing the words  
would make them true.  
  
"Yeah, I do."  
  
From the beginning of her treble jig it was clear that Sara was in trouble.  
  
"What's wrong with her?" Monica asked in alarm. Sara danced as though she  
were in terrible pain, with no hint of a smile.  
  
"I don't know," Deirdre replied, worried. "She hasn't made any technical  
mistakes, but something's not right."  
  
Sara managed to finish the dance, but as she walked backwards to make her  
second bow, she nearly fell.  
  
"Oh, my God," Deirdre watched as Sara stumbled down from the stage. The girl  
shook, trying to hold back sobs. Tess led her over to a quiet corner away  
from prying eyes.  
  
Monica knelt and unbuckled Sara's new shoes. As she eased them off, they saw  
blood staining the left sock. On Sara's heel oozed a large broken blister  
where the tough leather had dug in.  
  
"Oh, Sara. Why didn't you tell us?" Deirdre whispered, as Andrew dug through  
the first aid kit for a bandage and ointment.  
  
Sara raised her head, eyes red and swollen. "You didn't think I should get  
them in the first place," she gasped. "I didn't want to say you were right  
after you spent all that money."  
  
Monica held Sara still as Andrew cleaned the wound and covered it. "That  
didn't matter," the Irish angel said. "You still should've told us. We  
would rather you had said something than get hurt like this."  
  
"I'm sorry," Sara choked out.  
  
Andrew finished tending to Sara's foot and picked her up in his arms.  
"You've got a nasty sore, there. You'll be lucky if it doesn't get  
infected." He carried her to her room while the others followed. "Wear your  
sneakers for the next few days, until it  
eals. And no dancing!"  
  
Sara gulped. "Yes Sir."  
  
"OK. We'll leave you with Monica to get changed." He ushered Tess and  
Deirdre out and shut the door.  
  
Twenty minutes later Sara and Monica came back downstairs where Tess, Andrew  
and Deirdre waited. As a group they went back in the ballroom. Deirdre  
reached over and took Sara's hand, holding it tightly.  
  
As they feared, Sara's name wasn't on recall list. Forced to accept her  
defeat for the first time, Sara did the only thing she could think of. She  
ran out of the room.  
  
Broken Dreams  
"Sara, wait!" Andrew yelled after her, but the girl did not look back.  
  
Sara ran blindly, her heel throbbing, until she came to St. Brendan's  
Catholic church where she had attended Mass that Sunday. She pushed open the  
wooden door and went inside. She knelt in a pew and tried to pray, but no  
words came.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Father". Sara put her face in her hands and cried. "I let You  
down," she sobbed. "I was going to win for You, but I failed."  
  
"No Sara. You didn't fail."  
  
"Leave me alone, Monica." Sara turned away miserably. "I don't want to talk  
right now."  
  
"You don't need to talk, baby. You just need to listen."  
  
"Tess?" Sara lifted her head. "Andrew? What's going on?"  
  
The three glowed with heavenly light in the darkened church. "We're angels,  
Sara," Andrew replied. "sent by God to be with you at just this moment."  
  
Sara nodded slowly. "I think, deep down I knew that you were. My life has  
been so wonderful since you showed up." She smiled sadly. "You know, there's  
this verse from the Bible that I love. It's where Jesus' disciples ask if a  
man has sinned and been punished with blindness. Jesus tells them that the  
man was born that way so that God's works could be shown in him," Sara  
sighed. "I thought that if I could win that would really encourage people and  
show what God can do."  
  
"Sara do you remember what you said about wanting to dance just for God?"  
Monica asked.  
  
"Yes." Sara felt uneasy, remembering her defiant attitude.  
  
"Well, He is very proud of you right now," Monica continued.  
  
Sara interrupted angrily. "How can He be? I lost and I did something  
stupid!"  
  
"You did not lose!" Tess answered sternly. "You may not have gotten that  
gold medal, but you did the best you could. God doesn't care if you have a  
hundred medals, he just cares about you."  
  
"And as for making the wrong decision," Monica added, "God knows that you  
will make mistakes. He gave you gift of free will, so that you could learn  
from them. And what have you learned, Sara?" she asked gently.  
  
Sara gazed at the crucifix over the altar. "That I should trust him."  
  
"You did dance for His glory, Sara," Andrew told her. "He wants you to know  
it was the best gift you could have given Him, a gift of love from your  
heart." The angel of death smiled. "And you have certainly encouraged many  
people."  
  
Monica handed Sara a glossy magazine.  
  
"Irish Dancing Magazine?" Sara asked staring at the cover.  
  
"Look on page 12," Tess suggested.  
  
"Disabled Girl Shows true Irish Spirit. Irish dancer Sara Porter won third  
place at the Southern Regional Championships in December," Sara read aloud.  
"Such an achievement is amazing in the dance world considering that 14  
year-old Sara has Cerebral Palsy in her legs. Her success has drawn the  
attention of dance therapists and teachers all over the United States.  
'She's shown that people with disabilities can do whatever they set their  
minds too. She's a real inspiration," said her teacher, Deirdre O'Connor."  
  
Sara wiped away her tears. "Wow. I had no idea....."  
  
"Believe it, baby." Tess hugged her.  
  
Sara spoke up again in the quiet of the church. "So Andrew? When do we get to  
see you dance?"  
  
The huge church rang with the laughter of angels. 

~The End~ 

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